Your Toad-Faced Fan
by ED-boi
Summary: ...what? Years of plumbing, karting, dancing and false cakes, and you thought the hero of the Mushroom Kingdom didn't have a stalker?
1. Chimps and Chumps

**I do not own any fat Italians, regrettably. Shame... my fantasies will have to wait...**

100m. Three more rivets to go. Two more Fires to jump. One more purse to collect.

Well, it was supposed to be one. So Pauline had said. Then again, Jumpman had spent most of his lives recovering her hoard of purses which she regularly, _somehow_, managed to drop around. Sometimes they were found, soggy, in a rain puddle on the streets (_at least, he grimaced, he hoped it was rain..._) Occasionally he had to pluck one out of a playful Chain Chomp's jaws. And, recently, he discovered one under the bedcovers in his house.

_Under Luigi's bedcovers._ He still needed to have a word about that one.

Two more rivets.

Jumpman digressed. That little topic's best left for another time, after he got this chunky chimp sorted with. And fended off those darn Animal Rights campaigners. Heck of a nuisance they were.

One more rivet.

He was all for equality, but last time he checked, stealing a meek carpenter's girlfriend and posing such a large health and safety problem by flinging barrels around wasn't exactly an ascribed right.

The last rivet fell, and Donkey Kong with it, screaming till his skull smacked into the platform below. Jumpman crouched down, peering at the unconscious gorilla sprawled on the girder below. He frowned. Hopefully there wasn't any serious damage. He couldn't afford to replace it if it dented.

"My darling!"

He straightened up, beaming at his girlfriend above. Pauline was waving down to him, eyes glistening with relief. Her hero had won, her life was saved! Lord knows where she'd be if her purse had burnt up.

Jumpman climbed up the ladder, fixed on Pauline with a huge grin. He tipped his cap; as he hoped, Pauline swooned. He rushed towards his girlfriend, and they locked in a triumphant embrace. This was what he was waiting for.

She withdrew a second later, hands gripping her purse protectively. "Oh," she cried, "I_ missed you so!_" Like Jumpman before it, she wrapped her arms around her purse, eyes closed to all other sensations.

The hug lasted ten seconds. Jumpman's patience lasted four. He reached 0m in 47.

On the bottom floor, he paced angrily across the dark room, kicking the drum-barrels out of his tantrum. _The gratitude!_ Well, that was the last time he'd lift a foot to help out a damsel in distress. He'd rather have a blue shell following him for the rest of his games than rescue any _'oh-so-pretty-princess'_ that happened to get foisted off by some pervert monster. Especially not on a regular basis, or across the worlds for just a slice of overbaked cake. 100m worth of climbing and monkey faeces (it had run out of barrels), and _not even a kiss!_ He rubbed his face with a dirty glove. He froze, sniffing his glove.

...okay, maybe neglecting to kiss him wasn't _entirely_ unjustifiable. And with that, perhaps he should get around to having a wash...

"Hey! Hold it!"

Jumpman paused mid-stride, surprised at the acknowledgement. This was rare for him- very few knew him, and quite frankly, who'd be interested in a jumping bore like him?

"You're Mr. Jumpman, aren't you? Please, I wanna say something!" begged the speaker, who Jumpman could now see with the light bursting through a window onto him. It was a Toad, one with a quirky green woollen jumper over him, the sort uncool grannies knit for their sons that they _strangely_ lose in their wardrobes. What was strange about this guy was that he _hadn't._ He was young- seconds into adulthood, perhaps?- as his gawky blue eyes and restless fidgeting gave away. The guy's orange head-spots shook with his stuttering. He was tightening, loosening, straightening his yellow-striped tie unconsciously, heedless of the combination of sweat and drool dampening his clothing. Jumpman could laugh. The way he was acting, you'd think the hero of the Mushroom Kingdom was before him!

Jumpman... jumped, to get his focus. He _really_ needed to develop some other actions...

"Eeehhh, sorry!" the Toad apologised. "My name's Dolor- it's Latin you know!- and it's just that... yourmoustacheitissoamazingshinyandsmoothinspiringcanItouchitplease?!"

Jumpman couldn't really remember the last time he gave someone his awkward silence, but now was as good a time as any.

"...um..." The Toad inhaled, exhaled, tried again. "What I meant was, you've a great moustache. I saw you getting the best of that animal, and Donkey Kong too! Your facial hair just glistened the whole time, and you probably got the stars knotted up in there, with its shine... Can I... have a feel?"

Jumpman stared at him for a moment. A long moment. '_Then again,'_ he thought,_ 'maybe saving beauties would be a good distraction...'_

* * *

In the end, Jumpman told Dolor- _a good name his parents chose, he thought_- that his moustache was, 'regrettably', just a Fuzzy that had jumped into his face. That seemed to settle matters long enough so that he could walk out; though, sensing the Toad's sudden doubt, he rushed the path back home.

For now, he was busy arranging a few phone calls. He had cooled off somewhat since escaping Pauline, and rang her to clarify their status. Both apologised profusely, but in the end, agreed that they could only really be friends and should remain at that.

He also made a request of her. This Dolor guy really unnerved him, and he realised how determined those weirdos could be. If he knew his name, Jumpman was sure that he could, somehow, track him down to the depths of the Underwhere. That was how stalkers worked.

So, to cut him off, he asked Pauline, Luigi, everyone he knew, to stop calling him 'Jumpman.' Instead, they were to address him by his birth name- 'Mario.' '_Probably will never catch on,'_ he ruminated,_ 'but it has its charms too, I guess...'_

_'And, of course, a change of career may help me avoid that Toad too... Hmm... Y'know, I've always been curious about this whole plumbing industry. I may start there..._

_...and maybe deal with Luigi about that purse in his bed, too...'_

* * *

**Hello! So, as the summary hopefully suggests (maybe it doesn't- I hate summaries...) this piece is about a stalker throughout Mario's lengthy history. As of now, I'm considering 25 chapters- 25 years- covering some events up to Mario's 25th anniversary, which was... 4 years ago! How time flies.**

**I won't be covering the games/ times etc. I'm unconformable with, or all of them- I'd need 25 years to pay homage to his every appearance! There's no point in making a story of the storyless; though if someone wants to add a stalker to Mario's Picross, I'll read it!**

**Hope you enjoy!**


	2. Wrecking the Mood

So, that plumbing idea... perhaps he should leave it for _a little bit longer._ Direct his energies towards some, _more destructive,_ work. A great outlet for any anger he was holding. Luigi was very eager with this suggestion, thought it would benefit him a great deal. Mario had the oddest feeling he was just fed up after spending the whole night treating his burns and unlodging the Sidesteppers Mario had _'accidentally'_ flung into his dungarees, but agreed with his suggestion nonetheless. Flexibility was good, especially nowadays, with all the rumours going around.

Word on the street was that Bowser, that morbidly obese Koopa King, was turning his attention more and more to the Mushroom Kingdom and, in particular, its Castle. It was only a few small hints at first: a few more of his minions roaming the world, Toads out for picnics being questioned by trios of Hammer Bros., hormones being dumped in the waters that made for excitable Cheep Cheeps; that sort of thing.

Now, though, it was clear he was planning a takeover. The Bullet Bill cannons being laid were hardly meant for artistic expressions.

These buildings he was demolishing were even more examples of the hostilities that were developing. The Mushroom Kingdom was worlds apart- literally- from Bowser's Castle, and King Koopa wasn't patient enough to have to send troops from home to the Kingdom and back again. These hideouts were part of his construction campaign, potentially allowing his minions to remain behind and do his will as he wished, when he wished.

And _that_, was part of the reason why Mario was here. His little contribution to the Kingdom, and his kind regards to that cranky Lord Koopa. Every wall he smashed, every ladder that crumbled under his hammer, he convinced himself of his duty. As another support beam splintered apart and a platform collided with the floor, he smiled, fast-forwarding to the annual Kingdom celebration coming up a few months later. He could see it all now: the Princess would be there, and him before her, her "handsome young man, our moustached hero!" The chivalrous knight that had proved so vital in warding off that crusty ol' Koopa. She would nod, smile, make him a Sir; that part would be plain for all to see.

What they _wouldn't see,_ would be the glimmer of passion in the eyes of the two, meeting and consenting to a love none could ever grasp. Nor would they see that little note slipped into his pocket, regal and pink, for him to unfold once all had departed:

_'I'm in my bed. Take the side entrance, I've removed the guards. And my inhibitions._

_Love, Peach x'_

Mario sighed. Soon, he would be rewarded; so very-

Someone stomped behind him. He groaned.

"Gotcha again, Mario!" yelled Spike, pointing a burly finger at him. Foreman Spike was relentless- every inch Mario pounded into dust, there was that familiar sight of the angry frothing from his unruly beard. He'd promised the Koopa King that he'd raise his hideouts well before he moved in, but Mario seemed determined not to let a tulip rise if it was meant for Bowser. Spike was a decent man, preferred to avoid trouble when he could. Keep his tank-top clean of blood.

But Mario left him no choice. There was no way he could show his helmet to King Koopa again if all that was left of the hideouts was piles of bricks and glass.

Malevolence glared out of his visor, but now, manic delight alongside it - he had that infernal Mario cornered, _once and for all._ There was no ladders to rush up, no edge to run off- just defeat.

"Now, Mario, I'm a very _careful_ man, a very _caring_ man…"

He unclipped the hammer from his back, wielding it in his hands. _Grinning_.

"...but, let's say we'd an _accident_. I mean, well, am I to blame if someone gave no toss for the warnings? If someone didn't care sticking their nose in where it's not wanted?" Spike shook his head. "T'is only a shame. You're set for so much, ain't ya? Yet, here you are- _to die in a construction site._ 'The roof caved in with the weight of the amassed hammers, which fell onto the deceased. Numerous blows were inflicted. Relatives were called to identify the body.'"

Mario remained silent.

"Huh? What d'ya think? Could've broken into a journalism career had I wanted to, eh? Nah. I think I'll just break you." His hammer rose above his head, but Mario knew it wouldn't stay that way. He closed his eyes, all his senses at the time failing him. The only thing he knew was deep regret. He so would have liked to meet Peach again. To hear her say-

"Golly! _That face fungus_!"

Well, that too. He was thinking more about- _wait, what?_ The two of them flinched, surprised there was someone else around. Surprised there was someone stupid enough to say '_Golly! That face fungus!'_ during a murder in the making.

But someone clearly _was_ stupid enough. Within seconds, the shadowy figure fell from the beam above and bounced off the floor between them. They strained their eyes in the darkness, but could only decipher the rampant convulsions passing through the short creature. Accompanying it, barely audible, a low growling from its mouth- _mouths_?- that reeked of lust and hunger. Stunk of decaying, Dried Shrooms and crates of olives too; but Mario and Spike were too busy thinking of other things.

This being wasn't at all stupid._ It was feral._ And they had realised that _far_ too late.

Before they could even budge to flee, the abomination hurled itself at Spike's face, arms set to claw. It scraped without hesitation, just like a creature of impulse. His hammer spun away without direction as he tripped into the darkness, the hammer far from reach and torment far from over. Even Mario felt a pang of pity for the hefty foreman, seeing the tangled mess of flesh before him and the hairs being ripped apart piece by piece. It was like watching some overenthusiastic barber at double speed, probably _on_ speed, that used the tools of his trade for mowing the lawn instead.

Spike's head burst into the light for a moment, turned pleadingly to Mario. There was no longer any visor shielding his haunted eyes, no pretence of a streetwise hunk with certainty of success. For the first time, Mario could see the frightened Everyman he truly was.

As he thought this, he realised that they were not alone. From his level, he could hear hushed murmurs spreading from the site entrance, timid and coping with something new: fear. Leaning towards the light, he saw the team of Gotcha Wrenches and Eggplant Men huddled together, retreating nervously from the site. Whatever they were being paid to swat away that dratted demolitionist, it wasn't worth what that freakish savage would to their hair given half the chance. They may not have had any facial hair, but they weren't willing to find out if it wasn't fussy about _what sort_ of hair it got.

Mario hovered where he was, stuck between attempting to prise what remained of Spike from his aggressor, and just following the others out. Whoever the foreman was, nothing could justify this sort of hell for a man. _What was a beardie, if without a beard?_

An itch sparked under his nose, and he rubbed the skin under his moustache. Mario felt guilt, anger, vain, for realising just how much more inclined he was to protect his own facial hair than risk it saving Spike's. It was true, Spike was hardly a first-class citizen, and his construction ideas could have been imagined by a random Piranha Plant that only knew its own pipe. But, he was only doing his job, and Mario could read well enough into his eyes to decide that the man had a history of doubt and having to project false strength into his deeds.

No; this work wasn't what he wanted. He probably didn't know an inch of what this was all for. He was just a victim in events, exploited by the Koopa King to aid his plans. All the time thinking he was establishing a character for himself.

He needed help. But what help could Mario offer after dragging him out? As harsh as it was, Spike needed to be held back and experience humility once more, if he was ever to regain any clarity with his life. As brutish as he was, even he could get the moral of the story.

Which was, erm... Mario thought for a second. _'The pressure of adversity does not affect the mind of the brave man... It is more powerful than external circumstances. The one that relents gives his name to the external... his being and his life. And his facial hair.'_

He shrugged. Philosophy was never his greatest subject. But he needed to find truth, and truth wasn't to be found in a gloomy construction site. Looking once more at his adversary's ongoing struggle, he dismissed everything from his mind. He only needed to go home and understand his feelings. So lost in thought was Mario, he didn't notice when the foul creature raised its head from its _'explorations'_ as he walked by. Not until it spoke to him.

"Jumpman!"

Mario froze, dread filling his face. He knew that voice. _That_ horrendous voice, from, _oh_, such a long time ago. This shouldn't be happening. He thought he'd done enough to keep the guy off his tracks for his next 99 lives, yet here he was.

"Aren't ya glad you found me again! It's me, Dolor!"

Mario didn't need reminding; the name was his nightmares weeks after they had met. Even now, clustered in with his other worries, the word 'Dolor' remained in his sleeps. He stepped slowly away, but Mario's eyes never left the Toad.

"Hey, are you heading somewhere?" he asked. "But, but, what about your 'stache? When can I touch it? And I don't care if it's just Fuzzies, 'cos you know what?"

Mario didn't dare speak. The Toad beamed.

"Fuzzies are the '_totallest_' cuties!"

When Mario awakened in bed, his first thought was that it was tremendously kind of whoever ran the Overthere to put his bed in his after-game. As the memories kicked in, though, and he realised this wasn't his 'game over', he recalled his escapade in escaping that disturbing Toad. His last words to Dolor were to wait inside for him to slide the Fuzzy out of his face for him to caress. Knowing him, he would still be licking his lips and wondering where the little Fuzzy babies came from.

That morning, Mario skimmed his way through the papers again and again, eyes bloodshot trying to touch upon a job advertisement within his interests. There was no way he could return to demolition after yesterday. No way of returning _anywhere_ if he went there again.

Luigi went about his daily business in the background, both oblivious to one another. Made toast, had dance practice, shaved, nibbled at Mario's Shroom Cake while his back was turned (considered leaving a Sidestepper in what remained, but decided he had lost one life too many.) Mario just read. Read and thought.

To others, it would have looked as if Mario was in a stupor. His mind, though, was directed towards one thought and one thought only: Bowser. Now that he knew what Spike was truly like, it was dawning on him just how corrupt the Koopa King was, to steer an innocent man for his own personal gain. He seemingly had enough self-esteem issues as it was- what would he have turned out to be, once he had realised just how important his work would have been in the invasion of his Kingdom?

Memories stirred from his early childhood. A time where he had travelled, him and Luigi, riding on the backs of two tubby plumbers with atrocious hair and ridiculous antics. He couldn't quite recall who the two idiots were, but the days he had quarrelled with Baby Bowser were engraved in his head. So many fights, the two had. _So many stolen cookies._

Of course, cookies were now the least of his worries. If he could recall his past, then there's no reason why Bowser couldn't too. Especially if his minions reported in on how he and Luigi had interfered with the underground pipes infestation, or his acting against the construction projects. He'd come with a vengeance, the Koopa King would. And he wouldn't spare any friend or foe that got in his way.

_'...that's it,'_ Mario thought, _'I'm-a gonna have to get in his face and smack goodbye to that gay Bowser. He can't-a bring my friends and family into this. Only me and him. Our fight. And at least that Dolor can't-a follow me doing that. It's- a for the best. For me and-a for Lui-'_

It took Luigi a few seconds to realise that Mario was actually watching as he was chewing on what remained of the he finally did, he stopped in mid-chew, Mario's penetrating eyes fixed upon him. He wiped the crumbs off from around his lips, putting on his most innocent smile.

"Errr, _hey there_, Mario! I was just, um… y'see, that Shroom Cake?"

His bro. returned a glare that said, _'I see it down your throat, you git!'_

"Well, that cake… that was, a, um… _Poison_ Shroom Cake! Yeah! _A Poison Shroom Cake_, didn't you realise? And, I was just, erm, putting the pain onto myself to eat it, save you from the diarrhoea! And, you're very… _welcome_."

Luigi just_ knew_ that he was waiting for the next Sidestepper to appear.

* * *

**Hello! So, since the game I've based this chapter on is a bit more elusive than 'Donkey Kong', I think some exposition may be needed.**

**The game is 'Wrecking Crew', in which Mario (and Luigi, if there's a second player) has to break down all the stone walls in each stage, while being pestered by Gotcha Wrenches, Eggplant Men and Foreman Spike. The idea about Spike working for Bowser wasn't in this game, though, which is obvious enough when you see that Wrecking Crew was released a year before Super Mario Bros.! Actually, this is more based on 'Wrecking Crew '98', where he actually DID work for him. Either way, I thought showing a bit of background would be good, especially to help transition pre- Super Mario Bros. Mario with Bowser's archenemy as he know him.**

**Oh, and credit where credit's due- the first part of Mario's moral is a quote from Lucius Annaeus Seneca. The part about facial hair, maybe not...**

**By the way, just a warning- I won't be Sonic the Hedgehog, getting any chapters published very often. Life interferes :( I'll try to work on something when I can, though...**


	3. Must be the Mozzarella

_That mask!_ That stupid, _cretinous_ mug of a mask! Why did it have to chase after him every time he so much as _sneezes_ on a hidden key? _How_ does it chase after him, anyway? Supernatural possession? Because that would be a rubbish afterlife- decades of feasting and raving in an ever-evolving world, only to end up looking after a 8-bit key in a glooming cave? Having only the company of a handful of awkward little Shy Guys and Bob-ombs, with suicidal tendencies that _weren't exactly_ helped by the persistent duskiness that befriended them?

No wonder the mask was so feral. One day it'd be a mask that'd end the world, Mario just knew it. But right now, it was his life, not his world, that he was worried about.

Turning the corner, there was no sight whatsoever of the locked door he'd been running for. The passageway before him, using the few flecks of light available deep underground, he found just as hollow as the last. The rough road sloped down at a tiny angle, leading towards two shivering Bob-ombs and an energetic Shy Guy. It struck Mario that perhaps his enemies were enemies to Phantos as well. There was not much that Phantos could do beyond hang on the wall with their creepy little grins and blaze after thieves, and by that point everyone else- even those sharing the same common foe- wouldn't really have the time or lives to view anything else. Add it to the fact that only well-resourced heroes could just temporarily stop the onslaught, and you make for one obnoxious, total-

"_Dictator_!" wailed one of the Bob-ombs, interrupting Mario's track of thought. Smoke erupted from its round top as it approached him. "We've waited here fifteen years for you, you gassy dictator! _FIFTEEN YEARS_! Just so you could pick off that stupid Mario and keep your kingly bottom safe! And you only come around to laugh at us _now?!_ Go to the Underwhere, you slimy frog! _What is your problem?!_"

The pink Bob-omb rested her head against him, consolingly. "Come on, honey, you're exaggerating now. Wart only just took over Subcon a week ago, remember? And besides, look at this man. It's Mario, don't you see?"

"..."

"See? Wart hasn't got cheeks that chubby, now, does he?"

The Bob-omb. "..."

Mario. "..."

She turned to Mario and, subtly, mouthed '_delusional_.' ... Bob-ombs have mouths?

"...I'm alright now," announced the male Bob-omb. "Sorry about that, Mario. It's the tension getting to me, it is. I'm very sensitive to the dark. It just makes me WANTTOBLOWUPANDMAKETHELIGHTCOMEANDENDITALLFORTHELAUGHS. But I'm sane now. Not at all INSANEORWISHINGEVERYONEASLOWAGONISINGDEATHHOORAY. But thanks for not losing your cool."

Mario nodded solemnly.

"We're still going to blow up your face, though."

He nodded again. He hadn't even tilted his head back up again when his ears blazed with the sound of two explosions agitating the walls around him. In one swift move, he back-flipped away from the bursts of energy, kicking away the rubble that broke away towards him. A smirk brightened his face as he landed, he knew that the self-destructs had failed and all that the walking bombs had achieved were massive hangovers in the morning.

Except, when the dust settled, there was no sight of them. Only the craters where they had once been, where they should _still_ be. And the mask hovering them, its grin as resolute as ever. It was also getting closer than ever. To incinerate each of his fingers and more, just to recover the beloved key-

Of course. The key. Mario's last chance. The Phanto was just a metre away, but hope was even closer. Eyes shut, arms tensed, he threw the key, and that was all he knew at as awaited the worst.

Silence choked him. Just silence, agonising and cruel. But he decided after a second to just open his eyes, because he was experienced enough to know that the world doesn't really have the most important of heroes die randomly in a cave just because he didn't open the door. And sure enough, there was no sign of the Phanto any more. Apparently, it's no longer stealing if you put the things down once in a while. Hopefully the Mushroom Kingdom's legal system wasn't keen on that idea, or the Princess could be 'stolen' away all the time. Not considering that this could happen nonetheless. At least she was being adventurous this time. She had decided to float around the cave using platforms the others couldn't, while Luigi and Toad were busy fighting Birdo elsewhere.

Thankfully, Mario would soon be reunited with the rest, for as he went to pick up the key again, he noticed a glint of metal near the bottom of the slope. The lock on the sealed door. His exit. _'Vigor up!'_ yelled the plumber, internally. He was practically sliding down the slope at this point, at a rate that would melt the Penguin Champ's heart if he saw it. But no, now he only had a Shy Guy to watch him, which couldn't quite produce the same impact as being cheered on by the Princess or a professional. Though it did seem strangely interested in him. Annoyingly so. It blocked him mid-stride, puny arms outstretched like a traffic warden. Mario glowered at him; it may as well have been a Goomba standing up to him, for all it mattered. He could outjump it in a second, what could it say to that?

"Oh, heya Mario!" it chimed.

Hmm. 'SHY' Guys, huh? 'Shy' meaning antisocial, unable and unwilling to kick up a conversation, eh? As in, not having the spike balls to greet a new face with '_oh, heya Mario!_', right?

"Well? Say something."

There were a few choice words he wanted to say, but he bit his lip instead. There was something bad about its voice that he didn't want to remember.

"Come on, Mario, you've done that joke before. _Course_ you know who I am!"

As if this confidence was not profound enough, the Shy Guy placed his hands on the mask he wore. He couldn't be... _But he was._ He was peeling it away, slowly and delicately, but for all Mario knew or cared, he could have burned it off his face. Because what mattered was this face, and this face could only be-

"_See?_ It's me, Dolor! Fancy seeing you here!" His words barely registered; Mario's eyes remained fixed on the Toad's appearance. Dolor was kind enough to blush. "Er, I wasn't stalking you or anything! I was just... _cosplaying_! Yeah, cosplaying! They really let the Los Angeles Convention Centre go downhill, eh?"

The Italian plumber was ready to point out to him that Los Angeles wasn't situated in Subcon and generally wasn't home to homicidal masks, but this thought brought him back to his more concerning stalker. The Phanto would be back any moment now, and when it was, it wouldn't be eager to share notes with the Toad about how best to snoop on innocent plumbers. He couldn't wait any longer- without a second glance, Mario spun on the spot and began to jog where he stood. Before he could go, however, he felt Dolor's hand clamp around his shoulder. He struggled to shrug him off, but with two hands in use propping up the key, his efforts were in vain.

Dolor was pouting. "Oh, don't be like that! You could cosplay too if you want! I've brought the costumes and all!" And, surprisingly, he had; for in a moment, he yanked out of his red attire two distinct outfits. Mario wasn't totally aware of modern events going on outside the Mushroom Kingdom nowadays, but even he could recognise what they were based off. The one that came with a fierce pig-like mask and skull emblem was meant to represent that Dark Lord Link was up against a few years ago, while the more feminine dress and wig held in Dolor's left hand brought to mind the chick that he had been trying to save-

_Zelda's dress. Cosplaying._ Neither he nor Dolor was a girl- _was Dolor secretly a girl?_ Acted like a girl, anyway. Mario would have to check later... but not in _that_ way. But surely the dress couldn't be-

"I'll dress up as Ganon..." He gave a Ganon-like smile. "And _you'll be my Princess..._"

On second thoughts, Mario decided, perhaps a quick kill by a Phanto wasn't such an unwelcome demise. Couldn't come quickly enough. _But not necessarily for him._ An idea began to form in his head- it was devious, yes, but it'd work. It wasn't like he really needed the key; a cave this big had to have another exit aside from a locked door.

So, he threw the key again, but this time, to Dolor.

"Da-da-da-daah! You found a small key! This key will open- wait, what _does_ it open anyhow?"

Mario didn't speak.

"...is this what I think it is? Is this the _key to your heart_? _And_ your hair? You're giving this _to me?!_ Oh, Mario, of course I accept! Amazing! _Fantastico_! Oh, and we'll need to arrange the location and guests and all. Marrymore, does that sound good? I hear the cake there is to _die for!_ And we can bring all our friends. Luigi, Princess Toadstool, those ol' Yoshis that looked after you when you were young..."

Mario would have asked how Dolor knew all about these dear friends of his, but he had the oddest feeling that knowledge would only lead to paranoia.

"And King Koopa and his minions too! Can't forget them!"

Yeah, Bowser and co. would be _great_ to have around. Could put him out of his misery in between fits of laughter.

A light thud emanated from the cavern behind them, though Dolor didn't even blink. Mario, on the other hand, jumped on the spot, and with the Toad's hands now engaged, took this opportunity to throw himself through the rest of the cave.

"What- you're already heading off? Is it because I forgot the ring? I have a King Hippo costume too, if that helps?" Mario didn't stop running. "Or a Luigi one?"

Something crashed out of the darkness behind him, and this time, he did whirl around to see. It was a floating mask with an eldritch grin that broke into his very soul, and the grin was everything and anything.

"Ah, hello! I'm sorry, did you want to be invited too?"

He took the mask floating towards him to be a 'yes'.

"Hey, you know what you remind me of?" Dolor giggled. "That face I always pull, when I'm about to eat!"

Which was very similar indeed to what Phanto already had in mind. Except the expression didn't change, not even after its meal was finished.

* * *

It was 2 A.M., and really Mario should still be sleeping in bed. He couldn't see the point anymore, though. Even in his dreams he couldn't get a break. True, he'd had three close friends to help him through to the end, but honestly, he wasn't at all optimistic about having his sleep disrupted again like that. What everyone needed... They needed someone to look after Dream Land alone. A guy who'd have the time and abilities to defeat the nightmares and still look cute doing it. But it would take time to find the right person. It wouldn't have surprised Mario if it took up to 1992. _Eh, whatever._

Still in his pyjamas, the plumber slithered over to the fridge, barely forcing his body to get up and open it. His drowsy eyes scanned the contents. _Did he have..?_ Yes, he did. He reached for the carton behind the leftover Megaton Dinner and the... _whatever it was._ Mario climbed onto the wooden chair, smiling at the carton. _Got milk? Yep. That'll show those goddamn kids... whoever they were._ He forgot. Maybe.

Whoever they were, Mario didn't care anymore. A litre of milk later, the kitchen was filled with the hushed snores of a plumber at peace. For now, dreams would not be a burden to him. They would be the homes of his greatest joys, his refuge from the dark.

Dolor, however, did not sleep so soundly. Not for a long, _long_ time...

* * *

**Hello everyone! If you don't read my other fanfic, I've said in it that my rate of producing chapters should be back to normal soon enough, since I'm through with exams. But, if you do read the other fanfic, I'm sorry to say I will be leaving it for a long time, at least until I've finished this series. On the plus side, this should be coming out twice as quick, and I'll have my ideas for it sorted out a bit more, hopefully!**

**On another note (trying not to sound like a whining teenager} could somebody _please_ review? Even if you're just going to copy+paste a generic review? I'm awful insecure about my writing, and this silence isn't all that reassuring :( If you're reading this, you must have liked something of my fanfic to get here and probably have a criticism or more- please share it, or how can I actually end up writing for _YOU_?**

**EDIT: forgot to mention, this chapter is based on SMB2 rather than SMB, because... I COULDN'T THINK OF ANYTHING ;( I could only consider the idea of Dolor jumping out at Mario in those land stages with the Cheeps Cheeps, but couldn't get around narrating it. I can tell in hindsight it would have been the crappiest 500 words of your life, so I did this game instead. Much more scope, I feel! I know now what games I'm opting for; if anyone feels like filling in the gaps (who am I kidding...) feel free.**

**And I'm not ignoring your review Matt1251, sorry if that's what it looks like!**


	4. Super Mario Stalkers 3

**Okay, first things seventh, I'd like to apologise that I took a while to upload. Truth be told, I wasn't even planning on uploading this yet. I'd another chapter before this, but for some reason I can't get it fine-tuned the way I want. It's nothing vital, just a follow-on for chapter 3's events, but it did contain some decent- though not necessary- exposition. I'll probably make it a bonus chapter at the end or something...**

* * *

_**World 1- Grass Land**_

"Pick a box. Its contents will help you on your way."

Mario smiled appreciatively at the friendly Toad that had brought him into the Toad House. It was awfully generous of him to make a contribution, no matter how small, to assist Mario as he traversed across the worlds. The fate of the Mushroom Kingdom, and the Kings themselves, seemed just that extra bit brighter with a bit of kindness at hand.

But what chest to take? Hmm. They looked all the same, so it wasn't obvious what he'd be in for with either one. _Yet_... his plumber senses were tingling. The aura of the box in the centre... felt _different_. _Good different?_ Apparently. It could be a Star, perhaps, something more otherworldly than a Mushroom or Fire Flower. _As long as it wasn't a Frog Suit..._

_There w_as only one way to find out, hacks not included. Jumping smoothly over to the box, he grabbed both sides of its lid with care. The lid practically slid away from the base, letting in the light for the contents within. The plumber rubbed his gloved hands with glee, lowered them into the glistening box...

_...an orange Mushroom cap?_ What sort of power-up was this? A disguise, maybe? He'd rather a Super Leaf or something, if he was being brutally honest... _Could he have a return?,_ he wondered-

A hand burst out of the box in one swift movement, pale digits grasping for the hat and yanking it back in. Frozen for only a second, Mario leant back into the box, seeing its occupant for the first time. He sighed. Enough was enough, he was fed up with this _nuisance_ parading around looking for him. He couldn't even bother to say who it was; he knew all too well and cared not a jot.

"Hiya! You found me!"

...then again, this _might not_ be entirely useless after all...

* * *

Few would guess it from face-value, but one of Mario's most remarkable traits was his resourcefulness. The last time Mario had headed south in Grass Land, he discovered his route to the palace was cut off by a large, unyielding locked door. The grassy hills to either side were too tall, the slopes too steep for even the Kingdom's most renowned jumper to mount.

That's if he wanted to pass that way. This time, however, he had just what he needed right in his inventory. The nice thing about Bowser's forces, Mario reflected, was that whatever barrier they threw out to hold back Mario, the vast majority of them could be defeated through either one of two solutions. Either he could skip pass the problem using his wisdom, or, if equipped with a good item or two, could just-

_**WHAM!**_

-fling one problem at another. He chuckled heavily as he saw both door and Toad fall heavily to the ground. It's odd, it never struck him just how heavy those Mushroom caps were. No wonder Toads were so short, it'd feel like they had a small Mario standing on their head all their lives. Impractical headgear, but ever so good at knocking down barriers. Without a backward glance, he sprinted through to the rocky land beyond. The wind rushed through the newly exposed gap, the cloud of dust followed in its wake. Dolor staggered up and lunged towards his destiny, except his would lead him on the path to the palace. A red cap bobbed up and down in the distance, becoming a red dot and, finally, nothing.

"So... was I useful enough?"

* * *

_**World 2- Desert Hill**_

"Aww, Mario, you're _so_ darn sweet!" chimed the young Toad. "It's like, we're really getting somewhere here, y'know?"

No response.

He giggled. "Yeah, getting to the _middle of nowhere_, that's where! There's not enough one-shots in the desert, what a shame!" His nostrils widened, taking in the warm arid air. "Like, who'd hitch up before a sunset on a beach? Lame!"

Mario was silent as a Boo. Aside from its childlike laughter, of course.

"I like hugging you like this, by the way. You're so _rugged_! I can feel the thorns in you, I can, but it doesn't matter to me..." His hug tightened. "If we can just be here forever, Lemmy's balls to the worlds, I'd be the happiest Toad alive. I'd make you happy, too, whatever you wish!"

The Pokey had several wishes, actually. It wished this perverted little Toad would get it hands off its lower torso, for a start.

It wished that these hallucinating hipsters would stop embarrassing it in front of its friends.

And most of all, it wished it could, for once in its life, just go and _move faster_.** (A/N- sorry, I had to go there :p)**

* * *

_**World 3- Ocean Side**_

Ah, there was Mario! He must have been missing Dolor since Grass Land, so no surprise to see him running so frantically in his direction.

"That's alright, Mario!" he cheered. "I'll always forgive ya, no matter what!" Dolor flung his stubby arms out, anticipating with relish the hug to come.

And pass.

And go. Hmm. Dolor wasn't the hugging expert or anything, but last he checked, this _wasn't_ how a romantic embrace was meant to be done.

"Uh, hey Mario?" _Why was Mario always busy going the other way?_ What a coincidence. "Maybe another time, if you'd like?"

The water splashed behind him, a large heavy splash that reminded Dolor of his big bulky cousin when she'd catapult into the pool on a warm summer's morning. Turning round, he was almost positive that was her swimming- _swimming? That was a first,_ he thought- towards him, with her overdone scaly skin and large gaping mouth. Fins propelled her forward like she was cycling, full throttle, down a hill, and none of this speed was lost as she bounded out of the water at him.

Then it occurred to him that his cousin would have inundated him with language by now, commenting on his dress sense and the real nature of existence and, _oh Grambi!_, what was that maddening stench?!

Then it occurred to him that it probably _wasn't_ his cousin's jaws that were closing in on his skull, and that he should've gotten that extra 1- Up when he had the chance.

* * *

**_World 4- Big Island_**

Let's see... you're a lovable little innocent. An innocent with great dress sense, charm and a degree in subtlety. Did you mention you can cook Mushroom Lasagna? Your favourite colour is brown, and you're surrounded by a dozen, none-too-friendly local Sledge Bros. that are fighting over who has the biggest hammer. You need to escape. They're distracted, so the right word could set you free. Get it wrong, and you'll be talking through a mouthful of iron. And not the sort that gets you to your RDA.

Most importantly, you need empathy. Interest. See the world as reflected in their hammers, as a beefed-up, loyal warrior for the Koopa cause. Be gentle, not prodding; you don't wish to cause offence. You're just a wanderer, neither side should mean the other any malice. So, whatever you speak about, it should be a testament to your innocence and purity. The sort of thing a friend, a _universal_ friend, the definition of the word 'friend' might say to them. Something... relevant...

..._aha!_ Of course!

"Wow!" Dolor exclaimed. "I never knew that Hammer Bros. could be so fat!"

Dolor's first_- and last-_ words on Big Island.

* * *

_**World 5- Sky Land**_

It was the Sky Land. He was in a shoe. The Goombas were shuffling along like pros, and the clouds grinned happily- _too happily_- at them all.

"I _love_ this world!"

* * *

_**World 6- Ice Land**_

Brr. An ice world. Why was there _always_ an ice world? Or a water world? Technically that's cheating since ice is just frozen water, so actually you're getting two water levels for the price of one. The price of one being roughly 14 lives; but at least here, there wouldn't be any ravenous fish jumping out at him.

_...would there?_ Dolor sighed and shivered. He really needed to hold down his imagination for once, he was feeding his paranoia too much…

He froze- _not literally-_ when he noticed something before him in the mist. It was a Muncher, but the plant didn't seem to be moving. It was frozen- _literally,_ this time- in a small block of ice underneath him, with its mouth held open to the chill of its surroundings. The Toad felt something small and fragile shatter on his shoe, and realised that was a frozen tear that had fallen. Another travelled down his face after it.

Even when it came to some of the most despised creatures in the worlds, Dolor always felt a sense of obligation for those that he found to be in peril or despair. When he was younger, his mum always protested at the brutality involved in the trading of shells- Nok Nok Shells, Shell Slacks and so on- which the markets tried to conceal. The Koopas may have been prisoners of war, but what had been done to them was abhorrent.

Thankfully, the powers in charge couldn't endure with the conflict and changed their ways. Since then, cleaner alternatives have been used, such as utilising shells that generous Koopas had donated or making artificial versions of the armour. Even though Dolor's mother hadn't gone out for a protest in years, the spirit of it remained in him. He wouldn't let suffering go on under his watch.

He strained his eyes in the mist, trying to find what he was looking for. He was in luck: there, just below a row of icicles, a ? block was suspended in the air. Running over to it, he punched it with the energy the cold had yet to strip off him, and picked up the Fire Flower that escaped from its snow-covered top. Moving back to the Muncher, he rubbed together a fireball in his palms which he flung at the block. It melted away in seconds, freeing the mini-Piranha Plant within. The creature twitched and moaned, but adjusting to the heat that the Toad had introduced, it gradually became more energised and its movements more fluid.

To Dolor, it may as well have been a baby chihuahua that had woken up. His eyes were lustrous orbs, there for the Muncher and the Muncher alone.

"There, there," he whispered, "you're safe now, little guy. I'm a friend. _Friend_." The Muncher stirred under a fresh burst of wind which danced on the snowy field. "This is no place for a…_ a Muncher_ like you."

He thought.

"I know. There's a palace just a few miles from here; they'll take you in, I'm sure."

The trouble was, how would it get there? He couldn't carry it on his back, it had nothing to hold on with, nothing but its mouth-

_...its mouth._

* * *

Later on at the palace, Chutney the Toad burst into the throne room and bowed before the newly-recovered King. He- the Mushroom King's loyal servant- couldn't help but smile as he went in, glad that Mario had defeated the Koopaling that had turned the King into an animal and thus managed to revert him back to normal.

"Your majesty, there's somebody who wishes to-"

He cut off as he saw the wise King lying, trance-like, on his throne, completely oblivious to his presence.

"Er, your majesty, I'm afraid you're not a seal any more. You don't need to lie on your front like that..."

The King perked up at once. "Eh? Ah, right you are. Yes, you are quite correct indeed, though... _why not,_ eh? Hurts like mad to be sitting up on here all the time, anyway. I do believe the seal has got the right idea, ho ho!" The Mushroom King finally seemed to register the urgency in his servant's eyes, as he withdrew his mirth away for the moment. "Do pardon me, what was it you wished to speak of?"

"Some Toad from another world arrived here a few minutes ago. He's wondering if your majesty could be so kind as to home a fragile plant he had uncovered in the snow."

The King paced from wall to wall, in apparent- faked- concentration. He didn't need to think twice about an issue like that, but one has to keep up appearances.

"I see. Well, I fail to find any danger in such a request... and I do like my flowers, you know... Very well. Show him in."

Chutney parted with a final bow, and Dolor soon shuffled with his eyes pointing to the ground.

"Welcome, young stranger! Please, do not worry about showing me the courtesies; speak with me as a fellow flower enthusiast!"

Dolor elevated his head to a degree so he would be seeing the Mushroom King's chest; nerves prevented him from trying eye contact.

."I, um, brought a plant to the palace, maybe you would-"

"Yes, yes I know. Anything's fine with me, my friend; I was more interested in seeing it, if I may?"

"It's right here, your majesty."

"...pardon? Your hands are empty, are they not?"

Dolor slowly turned to reveal his back to the King, who gasped in astonishment at the Muncher behind him. Its mouth was clamped onto the flesh, but unless the King was just imagining it- which he very much doubted- the Muncher was _cooing_.

* * *

Among the palace's collection of artwork, there was one painting that the King strived to cross every day. It was a fond favourite of his; he was there on the day it was finished, two years ago. But, oh, was that a fleck of dust? Not daring to rub his fingers on the canvas, he puffed out his cheeks and blew the dust off his treasure. Ah, that was better. He gave himself a minute just to look at it, the detail on the Toad and plant matching his impression of them, the day they arrived.

'Peace in the Pain', it was labelled. The artist wasn't great naming his works, it had to be said, but the title was never the focus. It was the innocence.

Finished admiring the painting, the Mushroom King reminded himself of the next stage of his routine. It wouldn't do to let his plants wait around for him...

"Coming, Munchie," he called, "never fear..."

* * *

_**World 7- Pipe Maze**_

Goomba: Hey, you heard about that Mario guy?

Koopa: Who? _Him?_

Goomba: You know, the one with the mushrooms!

Koopa: Yeah!

Goomba: The one pumpin' around in the pipes!

Koopa: Yeah, I know him! _I know him!_

Goomba: Okay? Hey, check this out.

~Super Mario-o Bro-thers Three

It is the only one (_of three!_) just for m-

Koopa: _H-hey!_ You're slacking!

Goomba: …

Koopa: What's up with you? We rehearsed this all just this morning, how are you drying up?

Goomba: ...I don't know, Koopa…

Koopa: Don't know? Of course you don't know, you're a generic minion that gets about two seconds of screen time! You don't need to know _anything_!

Goomba: No, I mean like, this song, man. I don't know if it's gonna catch on, y'know?

Koopa: I don't know, I'm just on-screen for the four seconds and-

Goomba: Be serious, man. _Koopa. Guy_. I'm thinking… we should just lie low, wait for the spotlights to get a little brighter and stuff. We haven't got the right audience yet or anything.

Koopa: It's early days, you mean?

Goomba: Don't you know it, bro.

Koopa: I told you, I don't know-

Dolor: Why am I here again?

* * *

_**World 8- Dark Land**_

Footsteps. The sound of gravel crunching under heavy feet. He was coming.

For days now, Dolor had been tucked down inside this dusty pit he had found, like a soldier in the trenches waiting for gunfire to blare. He didn't bring any essentials with him, bar a few bottles of water he had filled up in the last world. Faint traces of a beard were beginning to form on his face, which he didn't notice having no reflections to judge from. His eyes were bloodshot: the roar of the Koopa Troop marching by endlessly kept him awake during the nights.

He had a cap full of dirt and sweat, which had to be taken off and shook empty every couple of hours. He would do so gently; not just to be delicate, but to compensate for the limbs which had grown stagnant with the inactivity. It was a struggle to climb out of the hole and peer at his hostile surroundings, and he began to suspect that when he did try to leave- if that ever came- he'd be caught within minutes, unable to flee quickly enough to avoid detection.

The green woollen jumper he had once adored was now an item he wanted to forget, seeing the tears and scorch marks that had made it almost unrecognisable. If not for the jagged rocks that could still slice against his skin, he would have gone bare-chested by now.

He was suffering, lightly put. But he'd make it an art, he vowed. He was suffering for Mario. If Mario could risk his life so much for the sake of peace and for unworthy Toads like himself, then Dolor was proud to endanger his very being, just to show Mario that he would always be appreciated for his kindness. Just that.

_'BUT WHY'S HE TAKING FOREVER TO SEE IT?!' _This was Dolor's most frequent query throughout these days, and the second thing to keep him awake at night. Unbeknownst to him, Mario had already finished his business in Dark Land and recovered the Princess by the time he had arrived and hid away in the pit. Mario would never meet him in the disarray he was now in, or be told about that daft little Toad that went camping out near an army. To everyone else, this would never have happened at all.

Unfortunately, Dolor didn't quite realise that yet, and holding on to the hope he had, the footsteps he could hear just above _had_ to be those of Mister Mario, and Mister Mario alone.

Closer now. Right before the pit. He had only one chance, it was now or never. _Inhale; exhale._

"M-mister Mario..." he coughed. "Mario..."

The footsteps stopped; they had at least heard the wreck of a voice he had. He could have pushed his vocal cords a bit harder, he knew, but in honesty he was hoping to rack up the sympathy votes some more.

"Please, Mario... _come to me..._"

There was the sound of feet leaping off the ground, and Dolor's heart leapt with it. He _does_ care!

And it leapt again when Mario landed with a gargantuan thud beside him, except this time Dolor wasn't hallucinating or drunk or anything and clearly _this_, was _not_ Mario.

The Sledge Bro. waved its hammer in the air, like a school bully does with its fist that is about to knock some poor souls lights out. Dolor had a sinking feeling this was not meant to be a coincidence.

"Err, um, _hello there_..?" He smiled innocently. "I guess you may remember me, huh?"

It remembered. And Dolor remembered his hammer. But _just in case he forgot..._


End file.
